


Falconry

by AotA



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, captain america winter soldier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 10:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4662852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AotA/pseuds/AotA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam lets the Winter Soldier fly free and trusts that sooner or later he’ll return to Sam’s hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falconry

Sam watches as James disappears, there one second and gone the next and lets out a heavy, nervous sigh. All he can do now is wait. The rest is up to James.

* * *

James stood in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his hoody as he nodded to Sam, back from the hunt but blank in a way he hadn’t been when he’d left. Sam holds out his hand in invitation and James gingerly clasps it, letting Sam gently tug him closer. Sam wraps his arms lightly around James’s waist, only tightening his grip when James loops his own mismatched arms around Sam.

Sam relaxes when the scent he breathes in is just sweat, leather, and the slightest hint of graphite and machine oil. The distinct lack of old blood smell is gratifying. He pulls back so he can look James in the eye and smiles, “Welcome home.”

The emptiness and chill lightens enough that James manages to give him the twitch of his lips that passes for his smile these days. He clears his throat and says, “Glad to be home.”

Sam grins at him.

Home.

It’s a good word.

* * *

“Who was that?” Jazz eyes the corner James had appeared out of nervously, eyes flicking back toward the exit where she had last seen the stealthy man leave through.

Sam quirks a smile, “A friend. Almost killed me a time or three. You know how it goes. Lured him in from the cold with a cup of cocoa, an offer of a jacket, and a crowbar.”

Jazz stops her nervous glances to peer at him oddly instead, “A… crowbar?”

“Yes.” A cup of cocoa is set in Sam’s hand when James appears at his side, making Jazz jump and reach for a gun she doesn’t have.

“Fuck,” Jazz hisses, empty hand fisting at her side as she meets James’s piercing stare.

“Jazz, this is James. James, Jazz,” Sam waves his hand between them. “Sorry for the scare, Jazz. James is trying to work out how to make noise when he walks.”

James offers a quiet, “Unfortunately, bells don’t work.”

Jazz snorts, “I’m assuming that means you’ve tried them then?”

James nods solemnly, making Jazz laugh a little. His lips turn up ever so slightly to Sam’s warmed gratification.

“So,” she says, settling a bit, “What’s this I was hearing about a crowbar?”

Sam laughs. He nudges James lightly, “You going to tell it this time, huh?”

“You sure you want me to?” James asks, ice replaced with something better described as unholy glee.

“You know what? No. No I don’t,” Sam backpedals over the sound of Jazz’s laughter.

“Okay, now I’m really curious,” she says eager for dirt on “Squeaky Clean” Sam, “Lay it on me.”

“No, no, no,” Sam repeats over James’s, “Well, it’s like this…”


End file.
